I should be thinking that exact same thing, but I’m not. I’m struggling against the urge to lunge at him.To protect what’s mi—I close my eyes instead and reach for the control I so desperately need right now. “I’d rather not do that if I don’t have to.” My voice is rougher than I’d like.
“Lynx?” Callum’s eyes narrow when I slowly open mine to look at him. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Yes.
Fighting my instincts is never fun.
“No.”
He looks less than convinced, but we don’t have time for a debate.
“Will it be easy? No.” I meet his eyes, letting him see the resolve in mine. “But when has that ever been our thing?”
There’s a beat of silence that seems to last forever, and then he laughs and shakes his head. “Goddess help us.”
Corey clears his throat, gaze flitting between us. I know he’s wondering what he’s missing, but I also know he won’t ask. He’s pack but he’s not a part of the club, by choice. And there are some things he doesn’t need or want to know about. Not sure this falls into that category, but I’ll take it for now. “So, what do we do about Morgan?”
What do we do?
I run a hand through my hair, thinking, and send a silent prayer to the moon for inspiration to fucking strike because I’ve got nothing.
“We could just lie,” Corey offers. “Tell Morgan that his wounds are healing well and aren’t as bad as we first thought.”
“You said he’ll notice the minute he starts walking around.”
“He will, but what’s more believable? That either I’m a shit doctor or we lied to him—both of which I think he’s already thinking—or that he’s suddenly got accelerated healing?”
Well, when he puts it like that. “Fine. Do that. Then bring him outside to meet his fucking friend.”
He nods and turns to head back inside, glancing at me when I fall into step beside him.
“I’m coming with you.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his smirk, but I do my fucking best to ignore it.
Morgan’s satup in bed when we get there.
On his fucking phone.
Who the hell left that with him? There’s no one else in the room apart from Nico in the other bed, so my glare is wasted. Whatever he’s doing on it captures all his attention and he hasn’t noticed us in the doorway.
I put a hand on Corey’s arm to stop him going any further.
This isn’t one of my better ideas, but I can’t fight it. I need a moment to justlookwhen he’s not scowling at me like I’m shit on the bottom of his fucking shoe or bleeding out on the forest floor. Got to admit, the way he looked at me then was a far cry from the way he’s looked at me ever since we brought him back here.
Do you blame him?
No.
Sandy blond hair falls forward over his eyes as he stares at his phone screen. There’s still blood in his hair. The rest of him has been cleaned and bandaged, but traces of red cling to the shaved sides.
Anger ripples through me.
I can still smell the evidence of another pack, other wolves on his skin, even though it’s probably all my imagination at this point. His bruises have faded. The dark purple marks now a dirty yellow. I remember what they looked like though, and the images draw a soft growl before I can smother it.
Morgan’s head snaps up, pale blue eyes meeting mine. There’s no warmth in that glare, just an iciness that chills me to my core. Thank fuck, because my wolf needs no encouragement where he’s concerned.
I grin back at him, baring my teeth. His eyes widen and I know it’s because they’re a touch sharper than human teeth should be. “Ash’s almost here. You need to meet him outside.”
